For logistical reasons I had to create a concise concept, a general description if you will, of the libretto this week, for review by those involved in the production, whose work needs to happen alongside mine. Tasks of this type, when you are in the middle of writing a piece, are as cumbersome as they are risky. I often have the impression that works of art are wiser than their authors and the role of the author is not to settle too hastily into unambiguous interpretations, nor to determine too quickly where the piece is ultimately going. But such attempts at getting a momentary view of the whole can also be useful. Like, say, climbing up to the top of a mast. Such attempts are a daily occurrence, for my personal use, but then they are must less obligating. Ah well, it was an additional challenge; far from being the first, and won’t be the last.

At the top of the mast I saw a frighteningly endless horizon, with no sign of dry land anywhere to look. Here and there dark clouds would form strange, disturbing shapes. 

I will not discuss the concept that I came up with. What I will say is that I am reaffirming my assumption that it is Şeküre who is the central figure. Everything revolves around her, the main and side symbols and themes culminate in her character and in her drama. The question is whether she is the centre of gravity and “manages” the rotation of things, or whether she is in the middle of the vortex, at the mercy of the elements (men). I can also see that the construction of the whole is a kind of constellation made up of stories. Stories that are longer, shorter, fairy-tale-like, realistic; stories that are personal accounts or anecdotes, parables in the spirit of morality plays, or other small narrative forms. The dynamic driving the entire piece is, if I may say so, a changing perspective. The thought of exploring this structure further excites me. I steer my attention away from the thought of how enormous that task is. I just need to report for work, day after day, early in the morning.

Two words about the concert: it’s growing. I’m on the seventh minute. I also have the title; I like it and it is likely that it will stay: Minute Concerto. The ambiguity of the first word is fully intentional. More on this some other time.

(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)